


Missing

by Lokomotiv



Series: Tony & Tony Series [7]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, NCIS, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-24 03:05:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9696971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lokomotiv/pseuds/Lokomotiv
Summary: Tony (DiNozzo) goes missing. Tony (Stark) helps find him. Ducky gets thanked a lot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ducky POV.

It was a dark and stormy night, as cliché as that sounded, when young Anthony went missing. He was on his way back to the office after interviewing a witness, but he never showed up, and his  car was found abandoned by a couple of police officers. Jethro was of course furious with worry, and as always when one of his agents were in peril, there was a hefty dose of guilt further fuelling his rage. For once though, Ducky found the guilt justified. Jethro had sent Special Agent DiNozzo to interview the witness without a partner, for no other reason than the team leader's own impatience with the case.

The case was, admittedly, awful. They were hunting a sadistic bastard who delighted in cutting the limbs off his victims while they were still alive, leaving the head for last and finally killing them by decapitation if they hadn’t succumbed to blood loss before that. He was also prone to leaving the remains in public areas, where they would be discovered by unsuspecting civilian innocents, preferably women or children. Three parts of victims so far had been dumped on playgrounds and schoolyards, several others on plazas and sidewalks.

The reason that Ducky was quite frankly more than a little upset with Jethro was that they had _known_ that perpetrator was not only evil incarnate, but also somewhat of a gambler - a highly intelligent gambler. It had become apparent through notes left behind with the remains that he was well informed about their investigation into his case, and it wasn’t too far off to imagine him going after one of theirs in order to up the ante, as it were. Still, young Anthony had been sent out without backup, and now he was missing.

The team was working under the assumption that he’d been taken by their perpetrator, of course. If they were right, the only thing they had going for them at the moment was that the murderer usually kept his victims alive for a few days before starting to cut them up. He worked them over rather thoroughly during that time, but based on Ducky’s examinations of the previous victims, nothing permanent or life-threatening was inflicted before the limbs were severed, after several days of captivity. There was of course nothing to guarantee that the perpetrator would follow the same M.O. in young Anthony’s case, seeing as he was most likely taken to make a point. Ducky feared that the bastard’s desire to make that point as quickly as possible would override the perpetrator’s typical systematic behavior.

They were approaching the 24-hour mark of Anthony’s disappearance, and a body had turned up. Well, part of a body. A male torso. No arms, no legs, no head. Ducky hadn’t yet started his examination, but from the cursory inspection he’d performed on site, the body was a match to Anthony’s size and build. He was fairly convinced that there would be no way to determine quickly if the torso belonged to their friend and colleague, and the DNA-test was already running, but he found himself wanting to put off the examination anyway. As long as they didn’t know anything for sure, there was hope. Silently berating himself - he owed it to whoever this was to find out what he could about what had happened as soon as possible - he opened the body bag and began his examination.

When he was done, he sent a quick message to Jethro with his findings. Just like he’d expected, there was nothing to rule out that it was young Anthony lying on the metal table. There was also nothing indicating that is _was_ him, but he was all too aware of the fact that that didn’t mean anything. His phone rang. Assuming it would be Jethro calling to demand more answers than he could give, he didn’t bother to look at the caller ID.

“There is no way to know until the results are back, Jethro, so don’t you start with me."

“Uh, okay. Hi, I guess?"

“Oh! Oh dear, I apologize. How may I help you?"

“Ducky?"

“Yes. May I ask who this is?"

“Tony Stark. We met, a couple of weeks ago?"

“Yes, of course! Thank you for getting back to me."

“Sorry about the delay, calls to the company are screened. I didn’t get the message until today, and they didn’t recognize your name. Is everything all right? You called a bunch of times, told them it was urgent?"

“Have you been in contact with young Anthony?"

“Not since Tuesday. I called earlier but he didn’t pick up, but I know you’ve got a bad case right now. What’s going on?"

“I’m so sorry to have to tell you this, Mr. Stark, but young Anthony is missing. most probably abducted. I called to tell you as soon as it happened."

There was a silence, and as it stretched out Ducky suddenly wondered if he should be worried for the other man’s health. Mr. Stark’s heart problems were common knowledge, after all.

“Mr. Stark?"

“Since yesterday evening then. By the perp you’re investigating?"

“That’s what we’re assuming, yes."

“You have a body that could be him."

“How do you- never mind. Yes. Nothing conclusive yet. We are not aware of any other males missing, but that might just be-"

“Yeah, I need to see it. I’m switching to video."

And suddenly Mr. Stark’s voice sounded tinnier and louder.

“Hold the phone over the body."

Ducky, confused, lowered the phone from his ear, not quite following. Then he saw that the screen was showing Mr. Stark moving around in what looked like a workshop, and caught up. Video call, with sound over speakers. He’d known, vaguely, that his phone could do that, but he’d never used the feature. He _hadn’t_ known that it could be activated remotely, but then again, he probably knew only a tenth of what his new fancy phone could do.

For a second, he considered telling Mr. Stark that as a civilian, he could not be privy to details of the case, but then he thought of the single-minded focus in the man’s voice. And then there was the fact that he’d obviously already hacked their case files. Besides, Mr. Stark probably had a better chance at identifying Anthony, or ruling him out as a possibility, than anyone on the team. He moved over to the table where he’d left the torso, and held out the phone towards it.

“The camera is on the other side of the phone,” Mr. Stark’s tinny voice advised.

“Oh. My apologies,” Ducky replied and flipped the phone over. “I’m afraid I’m awfully behind on modern technology. Not quite as bad as Jethro, but probably in the same range as young Anthony. My excuse is old age, not sure what his is."

“Turn it over."

“I’m sorry, didn’t I just do that?”

“The body. Turn it over, I need to see the back."

“Oh, of course."

Putting the phone down, Ducky gently rolled the body over. The back was even more bruised than the chest, and Ducky shuddered lightly at the thought of Anthony taking such a beating. If this body was not him, there was a real possibility of that happening right at this very moment. It felt wrong, but Ducky found that he wished that his young friend was suffering a beating right now, because it would mean that he was still alive.

“There you go,” he said, picking up the phone and holding it out again, this time carefully making sure that the camera was directed towards the body.

“Closer."

Ducky complied. He continued to comply as Mr. Stark directed him to place the camera over the right shoulder blade, the left hip, the left buttock, and so on for what felt like an eternity.

“It’s not him. I gotta go."

“Wait!” Ducky exclaimed, but it was too late. The other man had hung up.

Ducky swore. As much as he wanted to be relieved at Mr. Stark’s announcement, he needed evidence to support it in order to believe it. Without evidence, he couldn’t take it to the team. His phone dinged. Looking at it he saw a text message from an unknown number.

_T has scars, small but visible if u know to look: right shoulder blade, 2 on left hip, left buttock, 3 on right buttock, right ribcage. Body not a match._

Reading it, relief washed over him, acute enough to make him dizzy. He should probably sit down, but Ducky didn’t want to waste any time so he just breathed deeply until the feeling passed. This, he could take to the team. This, he could _believe_.

Examining the body, he found that Mr. Stark was correct in that there were no scars on the specified locations. Not that he’d expected anything else, of course. And he had to assume Mr. Stark knew his lover’s body, so he called Gibbs to deliver the good news. When he was done, he saw another text from the same number.

_This is my private number, please don’t distribute, but use in case of emergency. Thank you. T_


	2. Chapter 2

“Anybody care to explain what happened here?” Jethro barked.

Personally, Ducky thought that the perpetrator turning himself in, written confession in hand, was a gift horse they shouldn’t examine too closely, but he should have known Jethro wouldn’t see it that way.

“He, uh, he said he’d had an epiphany, boss,” Agent McGee piped in. Ducky winced preemptively.

“ _Why now, McGee?_ ” Jethro roared. “Why, after seven victims, does he suddenly grow a conscience?"

“I don’t know boss."

“And both surviving victims were already at the hospital when he walked in here, but neither of them knew how they got there. _He_ didn’t mention taking them there, and he was pretty damn specific about everything else, so how the fuck did they get from the cottage to the hospital? McGee? Any epiphanies on _that_?"

The perpetrator, Mike Franco, had detailed everything about his crimes in his confession, from when and where he’d bought the equipment for severing the limbs, the address of the cottage he’d used to hold his victims. A team had been sent out to process the scene for evidence, but the confession was so detailed it almost made evidence superfluous.

“Now Jethro, calm down-“ Ducky started, to save poor Timothy.

“ _Don’t tell me to calm down!_ ” Jethro shouted, turning on him. “We have a vigilante on the loose, and you’re the one who-"

“That’s _enough_ , Jethro."

He could see the surprise on the faces of the junior agents as their boss actually broke off and took a deep breath.

“Fine. _Fine_. But we can’t ignore the fact that you told Tony Stark, _Iron Man_ , that his boyfriend had been abducted by our suspect, and three hours later, the suspect _turns himself in._ Things like that don't just _happen_. They are _made_ to happen."

“So what if it was, though? Is Franco complaining about being coerced in any way? No. In fact he swears that he wasn’t. Does he seem injured? No. I don’t know exactly what happened, but we have a sadistic psychopath in custody, a solid case to keep him behind bars in perpetuity, and no evidence of anything untoward going on. So what is the problem, really?"

“We had leads, solid leads. We would have gotten him."

“So it’s about pride? You feel one-upped? What if we’d been too late? Or what if we’d been in time to save Anthony, but not the second surviving victim? From what it looked like, Franco was just about to start in on her."

“Fuck you Ducky. No, it’s not about pride. But why, _why_ is it okay that just because he can, he gets to…"

“He gets to what, Jethro?"

“He gets to do whatever it takes. Why does _he_ get to do that, and people applaud, but if we’d done it, we’d been suspended or worse?"

“That wouldn’t have stopped you from doing whatever it takes. It never has before."

“No, I know. But I’d have _known_ I was breaking the rules. But to people like him though, they just don’t apply, do they? I think they should."

“Even if that meant that we’d lost Agent DiNozzo?"

“No. Of course not. I know, all right?”

Jethro lifted a hand to rub at his forehead. Suddenly Ducky could see how worn out the senior agent was, and he felt a little bad for arguing with him. However, he’d probably have found someone else to argue with if Ducky hadn’t stepped up.

“I hear what you’re saying, and in principle I agree. In this case however, I think we can conclude that things worked out for the best."

“The best, huh?” Jethro lifted his gaze and focused it on Ducky. "What about the first five victims, Ducky? Why weren’t they important enough for this to happen?"

“Oh Jethro,” Ducky sighed, his heart breaking at the despair in his friend’s eyes.

“If it’s so… so _easy_ for him, then why… I mean it took him _three hours_. We’ve been working on this case for over a week, and he tied it up in three hours. Couldn’t those three hours have come before the other victims?"

Ducky stepped closer to his friend, taking the opportunity to wave discretely for the junior agents to take off. They’d been standing, wide-eyed and silent, watching the two friends argue, and Ducky felt it had been good for them to see another side of their boss, one he usually kept hidden. But enough was enough, and it was time for them to leave. They nodded and walked away without making a fuss. They were good people, Caitlin and Timothy. Jethro knew to surround himself with good people, insofar as he surrounded himself with people at all.

“We do what we can, Jethro. We all do what we can."

“But what if that’s not good enough?"

He was familiar with Jethro’s deep feelings of inadequacy, they weren't new to this case. Ducky was well aware that they all suffered from similar bouts of doubt from time to time, but he was experienced enough to know that it was part of the job. They couldn’t save everybody, they couldn’t bring all wrong-doers to justice, so of course they would feel that they were not good enough. But they were in fact very good at what they did, so for the most part, that feeling of inadequacy was pushed to the background. Now however, their own efforts were blatantly contrasted to those of a genius superhero hacker in a flying metal armour, and he would’ve beaten them soundly if they'd been in competition. It would be almost impossible for Jethro, Ducky realized, not to feel useless after this. Add that, and possibly a hint of jealously at the loose reins Jethro had mentioned, to the pre-existing mix of exhaustion and guilt and his outburst really wasn’t surprising in the least.

“It is. It has to be. Because it’s all we can do."

“Circular logic, Duck."

“Yes, my friend. Yet valid. Come on, I’ll drive you home."

Jethro nodded and followed Ducky toward the elevator without protest, a clear sign of how tired he was. Once they were inside it, he asked, quietly

“And what about next time? What if I know time is running out and we’re stuck? Do I call him in? I mean, how can I not? Now that we know what he can do, how can I justify not using him, if there’s a need?"

“By remembering that he’s not a tool, nor a weapon. He’s a person with his own life, and he has chosen to dedicate it to something other than solving your cases."

“I know. I _know_ that. But still. I bet if I make DiNozzo ask him, he’d say yes."

“So keep that in mind for the most desperate of times, and focus on what _you_ can do up until then. You are very good at this job, my dear friend, I hope you know that."

“Sure. Except for when I can’t even find my own senior field agent."

“Oh, Jethro."

“No, I know. Thanks Ducky."


	3. Chapter 3

When Ducky walked into young Anthony's hospital room, he was not surprised to find Mr. Stark there. The man was sitting slumped over in the visitor’s chair, but he straightened when Ducky entered. He looked positively haggard - he had probably never left the hospital after delivering young Anthony and the other victim earlier - but his eyes were clear when Ducky met them.

“Dr. Mallard."

“Mr. Stark. How is he?"

“Hasn’t woken up yet. But they say he’ll recover fully. You staying?"

“If you don’t mind."

“Nah, that’d be great actually. I really need to go take care of some things, but I didn’t want him to be alone. You’ll stay?"

“I will."

“I’ll be back as soon as I can, but."

Mr. Stark picked up a briefcase, which Ducky suddenly realized probably contained the Iron Man suit. The thought of something with that much destructive power so close was jarring. Seemingly ignoring his boyfriend in the hospital bed, Mr. Stark crossed the room swiftly. If Ducky hadn’t been observing him closely, he would have missed the man stroking the back of Anthony’s hand with his finger, gently and briefly, as he passed. Pausing in the doorway, Mr. Stark turned back to look at Ducky.

“He doesn’t-  Just. Don’t leave him alone? Call me if you have to leave, yeah?"

“Of course, Mr. Stark."

The other man nodded, before disappearing out the door. Alone with young Anthony, Ducky looked around the bare hospital room. He pushed the visitor’s chair closer to the bed and sat down, taking Anthony’s hand in his own.

“So. Have I ever told you about the case in Santa Barbara? I was consulting, you see, and..."

Ducky kept up a steady stream of anecdotes for as long as he had voice for it, pausing briefly whenever one of the medical staff joined him to let them work in peace. Finally, after he’d talked longer at the unconscious agent than the man would ever had patience for if he’d been awake and aware, Ducky dozed off in the chair. He awoke briefly every time someone came in to check on Anthony, but after making sure they were medical staff and didn’t do something suspicious or unexpected to his young friend, Ducky relaxed back into his light slumber. The thing that finally made him wake up more permanently was a flexing of the hand he held in his own.

“Anthony?”

“Whu- what... Ducky?"

“I’m here. It is good to see you my friend."

Ducky reached out with his other hand and pressed the call button. The nurses would want to know their patient was awake. Awake, and honestly more lucid than Ducky had expected. But then again, there hadn’t been much damage to the head on any of the victims. Their injuries, prior to death, had been plentiful and by all appearances painful, but not actually life-threatening.

“Where- Hospital?"

“Yes. What do you remember?"

“I, uh. The perp, he- And there was a woman, she was so scared. She knew it was her turn, he’d made her watch what he did to the one before her."

Suddenly the young agent’s eyes widened and he turned his head towards Ducky.

“ _Iron Man!_  Wait, did I dream that?"

“No, he’s the one who brought you here."

“How-"

“We don’t know exactly, but the perpetrator is in custody and we have a full confession and a slew of physical evidence."

Ducky watched young Anthony close his eyes and let his head sink back into the pillow at this revelation. Before Ducky could say something, a nurse entered. After performing a few tests and then upping the pain medications, he left.

“How did he know?” Anthony asked, eyes still closed.

“I called him as soon as we suspected you’d been taken. He didn’t get my message until the next day though. Once he did, he helped us determine that the most recently found body wasn’t yours, and the next thing we heard you were here."

The young man didn’t say anything more, but there was something in his face that made Ducky think something in what he’d said had upset him.

“What’s on your mind, Anthony?” he asked gently.

“I saw him. The… body. He was dead before I got there, but I saw him, and I knew you’d think-"

Ducky waited to see if the younger man would continue, but he didn’t.

“We would have come for you even if Mr. Stark hadn’t been able to determine that it didn’t belong to you,” Ducky reassured him, and judging by the sudden (but silent) exhalation from the other man, he’d guessed right. “We will always assume you’re alive until we are overwhelmingly proven otherwise, and to be honset probably even then."

Anthony nodded, but kept his eyes closed.

“How did he know it wasn’t me?” he finally asked.

“He knew where to expect small scars he said, which he didn’t find on the body."

The young man opened his eyes to look at Ducky.

“Scars? Where?"

“On your back. Here, let me show you the text he sent me, he was very specific."

Ducky pulled out his phone and managed to get it to show the text message.

“Here you go,” he said and held up the phone in front of young Anthony who squinted at it. “Mr. Stark really knows his way around cell phones, doesn’t he? My phone did things I am in retrospect not sure it should have been able to do, in order for him to be able to examine the body visually."

“Yeah, he does that. He’s like the phone whisperer."

Hearing the wistful note in the young man’s voice, Ducky was at first uncertain as to why it would be there, but then it hit him.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you he was here earlier, your phone whisperer. I don’t think he left your side from the moment he found you, and he wouldn’t leave until I’d promised I’d stay with you. I got the impression that he didn’t actually want to leave, that he had to, but had put it off until he could make sure you wouldn’t wake up alone."

“Yeah?"

Anthony closed his eyes again, but this time the serious expression he’d sported earlier had been replaced with a hint of a smile.

“Yes, my friend. And he’ll come back, he said. I’m sure he’ll return as soon as he can."

“Mmh, wake me when he does, will you?” the young man mumbled, half-asleep already.

“I will do that."

“Th’nks..."

“You are very welcome my friend,” Ducky said to the sleeping man, and settled in for the night.


End file.
